


Selah: Stop and Listen

by mikhala_c



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelcest, Angelic Grace, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Cupids, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Magic, Magical dress up, Mild Blood, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Redemption Arcs, Still Crack though, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikhala_c/pseuds/mikhala_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel finds himself judged and punished in a way he never expected. </p><p>With a chance to start over.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Oh, he fully and completely blames the Winchesters for this. Castiel too, just for being there and doing his "I'm so disappointed and confused" look. Little bastards the lot of them. It wouldn't have happened if they hadn't pulled their holy oil stunt and named him to absent God, the universe, and everyone in between.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kink meme and run wildly out of control.

Oh, he fully and completely blames the Winchesters for this. Castiel too, just for being there and doing his "I'm so disappointed and confused" look. Little bastards the lot of them. It wouldn't have happened if they hadn't pulled their holy oil stunt and named him to absent God, the universe, and everyone in between.

Now he's cornered in See's Candies by Raguel and his brother is giving him _the look_. True, its his job to lay that look on all his fellow angels, but really? Gabriel didn't need anyone else to know that he'd been weighed, measured, and found wanting. He flinches automatically when Raguel reaches for him but the touch is just a soft brush of fingers against his cheek. "Peace, beloved companion, I wish you no harm. I merely bid you remember yourself." There is a brush of Grace after the fingers pull away and Gabriel meets his brother's gaze warily. Raguel's eyes are warm and full of affection and good humor as he leans closer and Gabriel feels some small part of himself want to lean in as well.

He thinks for a moment that Raguel is going to kiss him but his brother merely presses their foreheads together and clasps a calloused hand against his shoulder. Its a greeting of brothers and comrades in arms from ages past and, as their breath mingles, it is the past Gabriel thinks of. 

Even as he fights against it. 

Raguel chuckles softly and gives his shoulder a squeeze. "Selah, Jibrael."

Gabriel jerks back, only to have the strength of his brother's hand vanish as he does in a flurry of wings, leaving him tripped up and sprawled on the floor. He stares in shock at the place Raguel was and fumes a bit. No one called him that anymore; he'd left that behind when he left his siblings. New life, new face, and a shift in name. He's still warring between anger and embarrassment when the oh so helpful attendant wanders from around the counter to check on him. He catches the hint of pressed white pants out of the corner of his eye before a hand reaches down. "Miss? Are you alright? Can I help you up?"

Miss? Gabriel brow furrows as he glances sharply up at the pimply teen. Seeing no sign of mirth or insult lurking in that too confused face he slowly looked back down at himself.

Gabriel purses his lips thoughtfully at the sight of the soft curves that are now making his shirt and slacks hang funny. It is obvious that Raguel has picked up a sense of humor.

Raising a hand he snaps his body to its original state.

Then stares in absolute horror at the swell of breast that mock him back.

"Son of a Bitch!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes a week before he gives up trying to snap it back. He only gives up after he sprains his thumb for the ninth time in a row, but even after that concession to the situation he still refuses to refer to himself in a feminine pronoun.

He may jiggle when he walks but, by all that is good, he's still _Gabriel_ on the inside.

At least.....he thinks he is. The wine is still good, the chocolate is divine, but his darling summoned figments aren't really doing anything for him anymore. Unless they're rubbing his feet, then they're the most fantastic creatures on Dad's green earth.

It's also around that time that he finds out the other nasty trick Raguel pulled (so putting him at the bottom of the Christmas card list. Not that he ever mails them because what's the point?) when the angels start showing up. Apparently breast weren't enough, we had to make sure that everyone stopped by to see them too. It's some of Zack's flunky patrol that pop in first and Gabriel snaps them out before they get a word in.

He's getting a facial when Zachariah shows up. He lets him get out a sputtered "Gabriel?" before dropping him in the middle of the WWE SmackDown!

There's a tiny korean woman filing his nails in the mall when Michael pops in, not much more eloquent than the others. "Where have you been?"

"Bikini wax. Do not do. Trust me on that."

Michael gives him a look to wither plants and kill pigeons in midair before he opts for a menacing growl. "You abandoned your post.." Snap!

It's shoe shopping that Raphael ruins trying to drag him back to Heaven. His brother gets a Jimmy Choo in the eye followed by a knee to the balls.

Not that it stops him.

Or any of the others that follow.

The big neon sign proclaiming "Looking for me boys?" is getting old fast.

He's soaking the day away in a jacuzzi overflowing with bubblebath when Lucifer drops by. He's the only one that's quiet, just sitting on the bench at the nearby vanity. 

The Devil and his vanity, very pun-y.

Gabriel finishes his bath in silence while the Morningstar watches. Its when he stands and wraps the fluffy towel around himself that he finally feels his brother move. The fingers that brush wet curls away are blistered and the lips that ghosts over the nape of his neck are chapped, but it doesn't stop him from wanting more. "Raguel's judgment has made you more lovely. I have missed you, Jibrael."

His -her- body trembles slightly as the words wash over skin. It is with the sound of wings, not a snap of fingers, that Gabriel flees the longing and the unspoken desires of the First and Fairest. He runs to the only place he has left. The source of his problems and the eye of the storm. He is very aware of the irony as he does it.

All the embarrassment is almost worth it when he sees the look on Dean Winchester's face when the motel door opens.

"You should really get something done about that car."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silence in the little motel room is uncomfortable, but no more so than sitting under the steady, slightly hateful, gaze of three men he'd tormented not too long ago.

Then Dean decides to open his mouth. "So, this Raguel is like the angel version of Internal Affairs?"

"Good summary." Gabriel admits it grudgingly, but the hunter does wrap up the other Archangel's place in the hierarchy nicely.

"So what? He's pissed at you so he whammie's you into the body of the chunky sister?"

Castiel whirls to look at his precious charge with indignation on his face and Gabriel would be flattered. If he wasn't contemplating how many new ways he could make Dean Winchester die this time. "I happen to be a size 12. That is a whole dress size smaller than Marilyn Monroe, thank you very much. You greasy little..."

"Okay! Wait! Dean's an ass. We all know this. No snapping! "

Gabriel slanted his eyes over toward Sam but kept his hand poised as it was. "Give me one good reason."

"You wanted our help remember?"

True....

"Two good reasons?"

"Gabriel."

He huffed softly and leaned back to rest on his elbows on the bed. The action bunches his skirt up on his thighs and he doesn't miss the way a particular set of green eyes flicks down to trace the flash of skin. Gabriel quirks a brow and smirks in Dean's face when he finally pulls his focus back up. " Riiiiight. Someone said something about hunting some monster didn't they?"

"Banshee actually."

"Have fun with that."

"Bullshit. Get up, Princess. You want to slum it with us cause you don't have no one else? Fine. You pull your weight around here."

"Please Winchester. I'll can pull all of our weights and your stupid car."

Sam wisely places a hand over his brother's mouth to keep his next comment in. Gabriel flips his hair over his shoulder and climbs off the bed to head for the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week after that they've reached some sort of nebulous version of functionality.

Between him and Castiel they come up with a solution for his little problem with hiding where he is and, soon enough, he's sporting lines of Enochian spells tattooed down his spine and branching off to wrap around both his throat and waist.

His holy tramp stamp as Dean put it.

If God had really loved that boy He would have made him mute. It took a foot rub from Sam and a box of chocolates picked up from Switzerland by Castiel, before he removed the padlock he put on the older Winchester's quick mouth. Its probably for this reason he usually finds himself paired off with Sam now anyway, he and Dean apparently can't be trusted to keep a civil conversation.

Gabriel's tilting his chair back on its hind legs and slurping down a milkshake when Sammy gets up the nerve to pose the question that has obviously been eating at his brain. "Gabriel?" He shifts his attention from the storm raging outside the large window to his right over to stare blankly at the hunter sitting across the table from him.

"Sam?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

That one was way too easy. "Congratulations. You have."

The half petulant, half annoyed face he made in return bordered on the realm of adorkable and Gabriel rolled his eyes in response. "Fine. Knock yourself out kid."

"I understand Raguel wanted you to remember something but.....why the gender switch? Why make you look like that?"

Sighing softly Gabriel looked down at himself. While Dean seemed to delight in the chubby comments, and anything else to annoy him, his flesh wasn't fat. It was curvier than most, yes, but underneath was pure muscle. He was taller this way than he had been before but not by much; it was the heels that gave him the power to look down his nose at the snarky older Winchester. All in all it was what it was meant to be; a warrior's body.

"Gabriel?"

Sam was watching him from behind his stack of musty old book, researching the flavor of the week, and waiting for his answer or a smiting. Gabriel probably should get to one or the other.

"This is what I looked like before I left. As close as you can get without the whole eye melting thing for you and the getting my wings stuck in the door for me." Sam looked dubious and Gabriel gave him an watered down glare in return. "What?"

"You're telling me that you were a girl angel?"

"Dad happened to make me a bit more feminine than the rest of the rank and file. We're sexless not genderless, kiddo and I'm not the only one." He sounded defensive and he knew it.

"Wow. I mean....I know some of the books said Gabriel was a female but.."

"Jibrael."

"What?"

"Jibrael, God is my hero. The Arabic was closest. I changed it after Lucifer fell."

"Why?"

Gabriel drops his gaze down to his cup and swirls the melting shake with his straw. Not that he's uncomfortable with meeting Sam's eyes as he answers; he just wants to make sure the Oreo pieces are properly mixed in. "Because he wasn't my hero anymore. He was still Father and he was strong but he didn't always make everything better." There's silence between them again but its not as tense or hurtful as he thought it would be.

Sam's comment, when it comes, is hesitant and the words seem pulled from him as reluctantly as the answers to his question had been pulled from Gabriel. "It kinda sucks when you grow up and Dad isn't the be all end all anymore."

The laughter is too sharp and painful as it comes out, but it loosens something on the inside that had been twisted tight for a long time. "Yeah, Sammy, it does. It suck balls."

"Monkey balls." Is the flat answer back and just like that they become nothing more than little brothers snickering together about how unfair, stupid, and obsessed with itself the world really is. When they get kicked out of the library Sam doesn't even seem to mind.

Gabriel's just grateful for a laugh he could share.

　

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patterns are easy to fall into and Gabriel thinks nothing of it when he finds himself punching the buttons of the battered jukebox. The bar is nicer than most in the area and he can see the rest of the merry band out of the corner of his eye as he picks out songs to drown out the possibility of conversation.

For people who don't do chick flick moments they sure did like to talk.

He watches the shiny metal arm move the cd into place just so he doesn't have to look at the hunters while they unwind from the nasty case they just finished. He doesn't want to see Castiel where he sits between them unraveling slowly and losing Grace like a bird molting feathers.

The music starts and Gabriel can feel the mix of annoyance and amusement from the crowd but he pays them no mind. Its his coin and he gets to pick the song.

The movement starts as a slow shift that sways his body side to side as he whispers the words to himself. As it picks up in the chorus he lets the music take him away as only a song can.

Songs falling from the lips of the Morningstar as they were first brought into being.

Songs of love.

Songs of despair.

Songs whispered in the embrace of wings where Michael's voice shakes his very being.

Raphael's voice so strong and sure as he mends and makes new with the hymns of their Father.

And now the songs of man.

In the silence of the record change, Gabriel listens to the memory of his brothers' rage as it cracked the skies and poured a lake of fire into the earth. His feet keep moving even without a tune as he he lets the past string him tight. Until something breaks and he falls.

Into the arms of the broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It starts with the kidnapping of little brothers. One on purpose and one by accident. The convenience of it makes Gabriel wonder if they were cuddling together behind their sibling's backs.

Maybe they turned the power of their mutual puppy eyes on each other.

Serve them right.

"What's the plan here, Princess?"

Why couldn't they have taken this brother?

"The plan, Winchester, is for us to go in and ask nicely for our brothers back. When that doesn't work we kick ass until we find and rescue them while we hope we're fast enough that nothing untoward happens to them."

"Untoward? Seriously? Did Sammy give you a Word-a-day calendar for Christmas?"

"No, that was for you. He bought me a thong and a strap on." It was nice to watch Dean turn purple. "Back on topic now please. The Grigori aren't really a group we want to take lightly."

It was funny how grateful the hunter seemed to get back to the matter at hand. Gabriel watched him from across the room as he quickly and efficiently assembled the tools and weapons he wanted. "So, this is another group of angels? Their the ones that spawned the Nephilim right?"

"Someone was paying attention in class. Yes and no. They aren't angels anymore but they're close enough you might not be able to tell the difference. That in mind, stick close to me and shoot anything I don't manage to stab." He caught the guarded look on the older Winchester's face and shrugged. "You might not kill them but trust me when I say the bullets will hurt. Cas' has been spending his freetime carving Enochian on your bullets. He needs a better hobby."

Dean nodded and Gabriel figured it was time to get himself ready and get going. A snap and he was ready for war. It was almost too easy to call his blade to his hand even after so long. He wasn't, however, expecting the startled and strained comment. "What are you wearing?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes in a silent plea for patience before leveling a glare at his companion. "Its called armor. I don't know about you but I don't like to be stabbed with sharp things."

"You have actual armor?"

Gabriel gestured at the form fitting golden plate and gave the obviously slow human his best 'Duh' face. "Armor of Faith. Sword of Truth. You've got to remember, Dad was pretty literal even if he spent half the time talking about things you wouldn't understand until way later. When you're kicking yourself for not getting it before." Figuring enough was enough in regards to prebattle plan or their lack there of, Gabriel reached for Dean so he could fly them both to the lair of the Watchers. He might not be able to find Sam, but Castiel was still easy enough to track.

If Dean would hold still.

"Winchester, this works better if you're over here." For a second it looked like the hunter was actually having to steel himself for a terrible task. Gabriel knew they didn't really like each other, but he could put that aside given the situation at hand. Once Dean was close enough he snagged the collar of his jacket before he could get antsy and run for it again. Everything was peachy until his fingers brushed the skin of his throat. Gabriel paused under the assault of images before quirking a brow. "Really? A Wonder Woman fetish? Aren't you taking that whole 'I'm Batman' thing a bit far? " The purple color was coming back. This was just to good. "Liked the lasso thing though. Didn't know you were that limber."

Dean opened his mouth to answer back.

Snap!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

There were more of the Grigori left than he'd expected. They also found out after they got neck deep in them that it was Gabriel they were gunning for; apparently they still held a grudge over the end of the Nephilim. Gabriel was hard pressed to defend himself against them and his dislike for getting stabbed with pointy things settled into a deep hate. 

Angelic blades stung a bit more than wooden stakes.

That said, Gabriel was still confident in their chances. Unlike the Grigori, his shiny sharp thing also lights on fire. The Grigori must have noticed the confidence because there was a pause in the fight while his once brother Remiel sized him up and barked out an order. "We have our prize, kill the little one."

There must have been a mix up over who the phrase meant because a split second later he heard Sam start screaming and the low echoes of Castiel's pain made his molars hurt.

Things got a bit fuzzy after that but he vaguely recalls the low growl that rolls out from between clenched teeth as Dean lays an arm over his shoulder and puts a bullet between Remiel's eyes.

The next thing he manages to focus on is the plate balanced on Dean's knee, the slice of pie on it hasn't been touched.

"Dean, eat the pie. I don't want her upset again, I can't take another round of grooming." Gabriel turns to look down at the source of the voice and is dismayed to find Sam's hair has once again returned to its shaggy state. He reaches for the brush sitting next to him on the bed but a hand on stops him. He follows it up to meet Castiel's eyes for a moment before sliding back to the pie.

"Cas, how long is this going to go on?"

"I am not certain. I've never seen an Archangel behave like this, I was not yet made when they were bonding into families. When Seraphim defends their...uh...flock, the instinct lingers for a few hours."

"Dude. Its been three days. I never thought I'd say this but I can't eat anymore pie. Sammy is going to go bald if she doesn't stop picking at him and I've never been this damn clean in my entire life. I'm missing a layer of skin here."

"Be grateful you don't have wings." The words brought Gabriel's focus back up to his brother and he narrowed his eyes as he studied the space beyond the physical to inspect the condition of Castiel's Grace. The lower ranked Seraph shivered slightly and tried to lean away.

Gabriel reached for him and Castiel seemed resigned to his fate but the hand stopped in the air midway between them. "Castiel....did you shave?"

He kinda likes the grateful little smile that quirks his brother's lips but he's even more entertained by the sight of Dean Winchester flinging a plate of pie away from him like its a viper poised to strike. "Thank God! No, you shaved him, like a deranged Martha Stewart."

Sam climbs up from the spot on the floor at his feet and cuts into any further commentary Dean might have had." You apparently took offense at what the Grigori had been doing to me and Cas." Gabriel can remember looking down at Sam's back where they had tried to skin him alive; took offense was putting it mildly and apparently Dean agreed.

"Took offense? Sam, there are severed heads on the motel balcony as a warning to the other angels. That goes right past took offense and straight into Hannibal Lector."

Gabriel would have paid more attention to the rest of the argument but he was too busy walking to the door to check the damage out himself. Sure enough, there were heads lining the railing. They went nicely with the blood sigils painted all over the walkway and the walls.....and the ceiling.....and the parking lot.....

Definitely putting it mildly.

He doesn't need to look behind him to know Castiel is standing right there. "Don't worry, Dean is only embarrassed. I doubt he expected you to mark him on the middle of the battlefield, or at all." Gabriel gets a vague flash of being on his knees in front of the wide eyed hunter right before he sank his teeth into the curve of his hip. He also remembers the punch he got in return and lifts his hand to finger the gash Dean's thin ring left under his eye.

A mark he'd allowed to stay.

Let it never be said that angels were delicate creatures when it came to rituals. Michael's mark had left a wound on his shoulder the size of a grapefruit and Morningstar....he'd carved his name over Jibrael's heart. Raphael had been damn near conservative by comparison by leaving matching notches in all of their wings. He's pulled from the painful grip of memory by the press of Castiel's hand against his back. "Are you angry with me, Cas? " It was a legitimate question, he had in effect supplanted the younger angel's claim on the Winchesters.

"No. I am mostly flattered, no one has ever quoted the Songs of Solomon to me."

Gabriel whipped around to stare at his brother in horror. "You're kidding me right?"

Something about his reaction was the wrong direction to go because Castiel dropped his eyes and looked embarrassed. Crap. He'd really had been flattered....hadn't his bondmates been affectionate to him?

"This is where you say you are sorry, Jibrael."

_Raguel._

Just great.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is where you say you are sorry, Jibrael."

Raguel.

Just great.

Gabriel spins back around to glare at the source of the voice.

Only to find himself wasting a perfectly good dirty look on empty space. "Gabriel?" He knows Castiel is trying to sort through the last few seconds to figure out if they've just upset each other or if Gabriel had noticed something he hadn't. There wasn't really much to notice.

Aside from the lack of gore outside now and the sudden quiet from the Winchesters.

Gabriel didn't believe for a second that Raguel just popped in to critique his skills as a big brother and play Merry Maid. He's already scanning the horizon for signs of the trap he knew -knew- had to be there but he could find nothing. He could just leave the moment as it is, brush his little brother off, blame it all on Raguel and move on. He blames the fact he doesn't on the damn puppy eyes and the fact that he can feel just how much Cas needed something from him. He sighs and shuts the door before sidestepping away from the other angel. If they are going to talk he wants his space. "Look, I didn't mean that the way it came out. I'm just surprised I resorted to that, okay? Dirty limericks are more my style so don't take it personally. I bet you got flowers and glitter covered notes back at the garrison all the time."

There is a world of secrets behind Castiel's strange blue eyes and Gabriel doesn't miss or mistake the flash of pain and embarrassment that flitters through them. "I...was not bonded. Uriel and Caduel courted me sometimes so I was not alone, but I wasn't worthy yet."

"Who told you that?" He managed to keep his tone even with only a bit of polite inquiry. Castiel might have even believed he was only curious if Winchester hadn't ruined it by being a baby.

Dean gasped and clutched at his hip. Sam was there in a flash trying to get him to lay down on one of the beds but every time the hunter moved he let out another hiss. "Sonovabitch! This burns. What the hell, Princess? You have ebola spit?"

Castiel looked over at his charge then back at Gabriel and he knew the calm face wasn't going to cut it."You are angry."

"I might be just a little."

"I do not think you want to hurt Dean more than you have. You must calm down, Gabriel." He knows Cas is right, but knowing and doing are two very different things. He just can't wrap his mind around any angel telling another such things. Worthy. As if the measure of family was ever meant to be quantified in such a fashion. As if one can earn affection like a dog earns biscuits. He feels sick to his stomach when he finally get the first dawning hint of just how far his brothers have slid since Father vanished.

"Guys? I don't want to interrupt, but Dean's burning up here."

All it takes is a look to confirm Sam's statement and remind Gabriel that actions in the heat of the moment have far reaching consequences. Words and thoughts leave him as he catches the whispers on the wind. Its been so long since he tuned into 'angel radio' as the Winchesters called it, he almost forgot the sensation.

He almost didn't recognize the sounds of his brethren's approach until it was too late.

There wasn't time to explain or ask permission before he sent the others away. He didn't place much thought as to where he was sending them; only trusted Castiel to direct them once they were far enough away from the Congress of Archangels.

Gabriel takes wing the second the echo of his snap fades in the room.

He is not fast enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The absence of awareness is a frightening thing for an angel but when the world returns Gabriel wishes fervently it had not. His skin feels too warm and the faint scar under his eye aches, but that all falls secondary when he tries to sit up and pain washes through him. It arches his spine to the point of hearing vertebra crack.

He doesn't scream.

There is more heat as something presses down on his chest and forces him down against the searing agony. It pushes until the cold of marble soaks into his back and the pain ebbs. "Be still, Gabriel." His eyes roll wide for a moment before he manages to focus on the source of the voice. 

"What?" He tried to force the word out but he loses it halfway. His brother seemed to follow well enough and the hand lifted from his chest to run lightly through his hair. It was probably meant to be comforting.

It failed.

"You ran. I could not allow you to do so a second time. It has taken us so long to find you already." Gabriel jerked his head away from Michael's soothing touch and in doing so sent another sharp slice of pain straight to his brain. When it faded this time his throat hurt and water had leaked down the sides of his face. There would have been horror at the concept of tears if there hadn't been terror shoving it away. Terror that came from looking up the length of the golden edged spear buried into the ground near his shoulder.From his angle he could clearly read the angelic script that proudly proclaimed, _God Heals_. He didn't need to look beyond this realm to know that it had buried in his Grace and pinned some of his wings.

Raphael had struck him down.

Michael was trying to speak to him. Tell him how it would be once they returned home. Forgave him for falling prey to decadence and his own nature. It was worse than being called a coward; cowards choose to be that. Michael called him a lost child like he was too simple to understand what he'd done or he was an animal that couldn't be expected to know better. He was a messenger without a message so it was reasonable he'd gone astray.

Gabriel forced himself to look at his brothers. Look at the ones he loved most out of all and the shadowed figures that had come with them. 

They looked at him with such pity.

So he told them what they could do with a goat.

Michael knelt down and covered his mouth with his hand. "You are not listening; so we will give you time to think. I will return for you later." It didn't solve anything but Gabriel gave into his decadent urges and bit the hand.

He was alone before he even processed that all the action did was make his teeth hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He tried to struggle against the spear but it didn't do him any good; there was only so much movement he could tolerate before the pain robbed him of will.

The sun rose and set with Gabriel sprawled across the floor of what looked to be some old mausoleum. He had a good chuckle at being buried alive before he choked it off. 

No need to sound hysterical.

The sun rose and set. His hair was sticky with something but snapping proved to be a fat lot of good; Raphael's spear was draining his Grace to keep him pinned. He'd already counted the ceiling tiles sixty-eight times and sucked his lips free of the chocolate flavored gloss.

The sun rose and set. He spent so time wondering if he'd sent the others far enough to keep them out of Michael's reach. Dean would be safe enough but Sam and Castiel? Gabriel shuddered to think of what that little family intervention would be like. It wouldn't last long for Castiel at least. The dull ache under his eye reminded him of what he'd done and he wondered if relative distance to the Winchesters was directly related to one's levels of sanity and mental resistance.

The sun rose and set. His body was shaking and he couldn't stop it. He spent the daylight alternating between screaming his brother's names and cursing them. He fell into insults around noon but the 'Yo momma' jokes just weren't satisfying. None of them had a mother.

Maybe that was their problem.

It had to be theirs because his problem was simpler; it revolved around the steady ache in his spine and the name that hovered on the tip of his tongue. The name he wouldn't call because he bet it would be the brother who would come for him. This one time he didn't want to be right.....

The sun set and rose. He laughed at that because it was a very nifty trick.

The light slanted across his eyes and made them itch. The shaking had finally eased down into a barely there shiver and he didn't want to move enough to shade himself from the glaring brightness; it might set off the fire in his wings again. Right now it was just toasty enough for marshmallows. The light cut off. Gabriel opened his eyes and looked up at the face poised upside down over his own. "Hey, beautiful." His voice broke and caught but he still managed a grin for the one kneeling over him. Azriel stroked a cool hand over his brow. The shivers stopped and the burn faded away enough for Gabriel to risk reaching up to brush his fingers over the tattoo that graced his brother's cheeks. _Whom God Helps_. "Can't go with you gorgeous. Got a group of idiots who need me." Azriel turns his head to regard the spear but does not speak. Gabriel knows that Azriel's voice is the most beautiful of all; the problem is, you only get to hear it once and he's not in a rush to get to that just yet. "Not them... that ended long ago." Pale fingers brush over the shaft of the spear and ice sinks in where fire once held dominion. Gabriel lets out a shaky laugh as his teeth start to chatter. "You are being the opposite end of helpful right now, Az."

He doesn't see much more than the puzzled tilt of the other Archangel's head before something frighteningly close to sleep overcomes him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"To sleep.... perchance to dream....there's the rub...what dreams may come." He was telling Sam why it was bad to be tired but the kid didn't seem to follow so he wander off into analogies his college fed cranium could follow.

"This is the stupidest idea we've ever had. You're serious about pulling that thing out like this?"

"Cas said something about 'it was not meant to be moved by the likes of myself'. I don't see many other options here."

"What if we make it worse?"

"I don't know, Sammy, but I figure Gabriel doesn't want to be left like that. I mean...come on, its Gabriel."

Gabriel is snickering over the fact that Dean uses him being himself like its an excuse when Castiel is kneeling over him in the same fashion as Azriel had. He furrows his brow in confusion, but before he can ask any of the thoughts slithering through his liquid brain Castiel braces his his hands down on his shoulders. He can feel the tension in his little brother's arms as an engine revs. There is a moment of harsh echoing sounds before he hears the terrible sound of Raphael's spear ripping free from the stone floor.

It rips chunks of stone and Grace without distinction as it comes free and Castiel doesn't have the strength to hold him down.

He can feel his brother's arms wrap tight around his chest as he screams over the loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If his wings had not been, in effect, dead already the Winchesters might have killed him when they pulled the spear out.

He wanted to be angry over the whole thing but he couldn't manage it; he was free and he still had 547 wings to pick up the slack.

No big.

He has no clue where Castiel took them both but it's some nameless motel out of a thousand and hours roll by before that ugly car comes roaring up. His brother hasn't let him go yet and Gabriel doesn't have the energy to pry him off so they sit slumped together between the beds as the time passes. The tiny scar on his face is burning red hot and the soft celestial hymn of Castiel's presence is trying so very hard to comfort him. He lets it go on until the door swings open and he sees the concern in the hunter's faces. He shoves Castiel away with sticky hands before struggling to his feet. He knows better than to try to fly in his state so he tries leaving on foot.

He gets all of two feet before everything below his knees gives up the ghost and sends him sprawling forward to possibly end up in an undignified heap.

A pair of steady arms meet him and stop his fall. "Gabriel?"

He lets his head slump forward and addresses his comments to the belt buckle in front of him. "I'm here....."

"Glad we covered that. You need to lie down."

"Been lying down for days. Not as comfortable as you would think." The belt buckle doesn't answer this time and he finds himself passed off to Sam before he's muscled onto one of the beds. He can barely hear the conversation but between the three of them they decide to leave him on his stomach.

He's just too tired to fight.

The sun sets and this time the world is cast in the blue light of the cheap television. Around the time Leno comes on Castiel kneels by the bed with a brush in hand and set to work cleaning the dirt from his hair. Late night television gives way to infomercials and he can hear the soft steady breathing of the humans as they sleep. Castiel perched on the edge of the bed next to him and when Gabriel reached out to hook his fingers in the fabric of the trench coat the other angel merely turned his head slightly to look at him.

They don't speak but its good enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you want some pancakes?"

Gabriel looks away from the window to stare at the offered Styrofoam tray before following the line of too long arms up to look Sam in the eyes. He's cleaned, dressed, and out of the bed. After two days of recovery he figures it would be called an epic win on his part but apparently Sam doesn't think someone's healed until they're eating. Given a lifetime with Dean, Gabriel could see where he'd draw that conclusion. "No thanks, kiddo."

Sam just nods and starts to move away before Gabriel caves just a bit. "You could leave me the syrup packets though." He so did not smile as the younger Winchester moved eagerly to fish the packets out of the tray and he most certainly ignored the warm feeling the gesture brought with it.

The syrup was still warm and just on that edge of buttery to make it awesome.

He was on his second packet before the quiet proved too good to be true. Dean shifted on the bed where he was sprawled and cleared his throat. "What is it, Winchester?"

"Look. I know this isn't the best time to play twenty questions but if we wait until its convenient we'll never get to it."

"Eloquent. I repeat myself; what is it, Winchester? "

The scar starts to burn again and Dean shoves himself upright on the bed glaring. "You know what? You want to be a bitch? Fine." Gabriel watches the hunter get to his feet only to see him favor his hip and press his palm hard against the mark hiding there. There is a flare of satisfaction at the sight but it only makes him angrier. He shouldn't be happy to cause undeserved pain...

Suddenly, Castiel is there between them. "Stop this, Gabriel. You are feeding your wrath into each other." His brother glances back and forth between them before taking a step back. "If there is any trait Dean does not need to share with you it would be that."

Gabriel felt a flicker of amusement at that. Cas was right, the world didn't need a more hotheaded and reckless version of Dean. He looks away from both of them to see Sam staring at him from across the room. The naked concern in his eyes was almost painful to see. He sighs softly and mutters under his breath about the cosmic joke that is the power of little brother eyes. "Alright. I'm.....that thing where I admit I may have acted poorly. You have questions? Shoot. They must be doozies if their out of Castiel's pay grade." He shrugs off Castiel's whispered thanks and switches his focus back to the hunter standing in front of him. "Well?"

Dean struggles for a moment with his temper before he tries speaking. "Cas keeps talking about this flock thing.."

"Poor translation, but English isn't the best language for complex social concepts."

"Right...moving on. He called us your flock which, fine, whatever. We've been hanging out for almost two months now so I can see getting attached."

"Gracious of you." He gets two matching sharp looks from opposite sides of the room. They're ganging up on him now...

"What I don't get is the biting. That and every time you get pissed off it feels like my skin is going to catch on fire."

"A side effect of the bite. I can feel it when you get pissed too, Winchester, which is a lot more often than me." He reaches up to brush a finger over the scar and smirks at the way the green eyes track the movement. Dean catches himself and looks away quickly. Suddenly fascinated by the wallpaper no doubt.

"Okay, not the first crazy magical side effect we've dealt with, but back to the actual biting. Cas has been mum on that whole thing."

"Its a mark. Part of a ritual that...flocks.....engage in. To be honest I barely remember doing it, let alone the thought I was having at the time. I get a bit single minded in a fight..."He lets it trail off there but the expectant look he's getting doesn't bode well for letting things lie. "I shouldn't even consider you bond material. Being human aside, you are an infant by age comparison. Hell, Castiel is a teenager...."

"Gabriel." The tone is a warning and a command to get back on topic. It shouldn't affect him the way it does but he feels his pulse race in response. He turned his face to stare back out the window, hoping the distraction would make the conversation go easier.

"The abridged version is that it means I trust you. Specifically, I trust you to watch my back in battle. Flocks are made up of a collection of interconnected bonds. Angels are not meant to be alone so we are given two families; the one you are born into and then the one you make closer on your own. When you start courting you are looking for individuals that can give you what you need to be safe and happy. The trick is, unless you can give the other angel something they need in return the bond won't take." It was then that something occurred to him and he turned back to stare Dean dead in the eye. "After that fight I must have figured you were good enough to guard my back which makes a strange amount of sense. The real question here is this: since its obvious the bond took, what did you need from me?"

He thinks for a moment he's going to get his answer but Dean dodges him by heading back and picking at something else. "Wait a second here. We'll get to that in a minute but I want to go back to this courting stuff. We're talking like this is a dating/marriage sort of thing. I'm not husband material."

Gabriel can appreciate trying to diffuse a difficult situation with jokes. He laughs and smiles before waving the suggestion off. "Very funny, but you don't need to worry." He let the first edges of relief trickle over the hunter's face before he continued. "Like I said before; this doesn't translate well into English. To sum it all up though, I marked you first." The grin that split his face was almost too big to be comfortable. "You're the wife."


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel can appreciate trying to diffuse a difficult situation with jokes. He laughs and smiles before waving the suggestion off. "Very funny, but you don't need to worry." He let the first edges of relief trickle over the hunter's face before he continued. "Like I said before; this doesn't translate well into English. To sum it all up though, I marked you first." The grin that split his face was almost too big to be comfortable. "You're the wife." 

Gabriel might be getting a small measure of satisfaction over the way Dean blanches and his mouth gapes just a bit. Sam's shoulders have started to twitch ever so slightly while the dimples at the corners of his mouth dance between a smirk and the hard press of his 'serious, attentive' expression. "Wife?" Oh yeah that had a bit of a squeak, not even a manly one either, Dean must be really shocked.　 

"Developed a hearing problem there, pumpkin?" Gabriel defied any demon to perfect a better wicked grin than his. The annoyance and embarrassment flashed hot through the scar. 

"Ass-" Dean cuts himself off. His eyes narrow and he cocks his head just the tiniest bit and Gabriel finds himself under the full scrutiny of the oldest Winchester. "You're trying to sidetrack me." 

Well damn......he can be taught. 

Gabriel filed through his options, watching as Dean clenched his teeth and stepped back to set down on the edge of the mattress once more. "Fantastic. You flip through emotions so frickin fast its giving me a headache." 

Castiel's watching him closely again, Gabriel can feel those pretty blues boring into the side of his head."On the contrary, Dean, I feel things for eons." He knows even before he finishes speaking that he's caught Sam's attention again but that doesn't mean much; Dean's still watching him way too closely. 

"What does that mean exactly?" 

Gabriel risks a look at Castiel only to find his brother studying him as if he too is waiting to hear the answer. He shrugs off the inquiry and waves for Dean to move on with another topic. "Nevermind....anything else you want to know?" 

"Can you really see the future?" 

The question is simple but Gabriel knows what Sam's whisper is really asking. Can Zachariah? Can Lucifer? He turns his head to regard the lanky figure leaning back against the wall. "Which one, kiddo? Ever since I was made I can see the moment when the concept of time stops because it becomes superfluous. I can see the different ways that we get there. Choices give the paths branches and in various points along that distant scope I can see places where even I cease to be." Looking at Sam he doesn't see Castiel's face but he can feel the tension and other things ripple through the lesser angel's Grace. He doesn't understand how the Winchester always manage to get him to this place were the jokes stop and the brutal truth is ripped out. " A cheap showman could take one of those branches and present them as a finality and many of our brothers delude themselves into thinking there is only one road. Silly really, its like a water droplet arguing over its position in a tidal wave. We all get to that distant shore eventually." 

Getting up out of his chair takes effort but he's hit the end of his tolerance and the need to go out is pressing hard on him. He doesn't let any of them get out the new questions he sees lurking in the wings before snapping himself out of the room. 

He doesn't go far. 

There is no where else for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
　   
_"Please, Jibrael, you can stop this."_

_She doesn't look up from the task of fastening her bracers tighter. Michael is already armored and waiting off to her right. He is glorious garbed for war and the colors of the sunset ring his brow like a crown. If it weren't for the shadows in his eyes Jibrael could lie to herself and believe they were destined for some nameless battle among thousands._

_"Michael!" Raphael has turned to their oldest brother to beseech his aid._

_The Commander of the Host tenses at the call but he does not turn his face from the horizon. "I am not the Judge, gentle one. Forgiveness is not mine to give."_

_Just like that Raphael was back, crowding close and tugging at Jibrael's arm as she walked. His fingers caught on the edges of her armor, slide through her hair, and caught at her wings but she did not slow or falter. Her eyes do not waver from the object of her focus._

_The Lightbringer's Standard._

_'Non Servaim' his banner proclaims._

_'Quis ut Deus?' Is the answer on Michael's shield._

_Her brothers, the other six Archangels of Justice, stand waiting for her. As she moves to ascend the dais on which they stand Raphael wraps his arms around her waist and sinks to the ground. "Do not do this! You can let this go. Say the words that will sway the others to change the judgment. Do not make Michael strike down his Morningstar!" He presses hard against the cold metal of her armor and she can feel the strength and the terrible things that are held just under the surface by his gentle nature. It is his final pleading sob that almost undoes her. "Do not make our fledglings enemies of each other.....please, Jibrael, we will all lose on this battlefield today...."_

_It is one of the fledglings that rescue her from the healer's anguish. Irial is all the good that was in both Jibrael and Raphael made real; carved from them both he is strong enough to hold the healer back and share his grief._

_Drawing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the Tribunal she listens as the charges against Sammael are read. Across the field he does not flinch from the accusations, instead he spends the time watching Michael._

_Memorizing his face as if it will be the last time he sees it._

_The desperate longing that echoes between their flock. Her heart aches but her will does not waver. Her brothers fall silent and it is her turn to speak. Her's...then Raguel's, after that there will be no more words. "Will you relent?" She does not raise her voice but she knows he would be able to hear it anywhere in Creation just as easily as if she leaned against his warmth and whispered it to him._

_"Relent? I have done no wrong." His answer is sharp and it rumbles across the vast plane so all can hear it._

_"For me then. Stop this for me." She begs. She pleads with those words._

_There is silence for a long moment. Long enough for them to hope it was enough to sway him. "I am doing this for you. For you and for all of us."_

_Raguel turns to her then. "What say you, Jibrael?It is your charge he most threatens." She thinks about her flock and all that they are to each other. She thinks on the joys and the wonders. She thinks on the fledglings their Father blessed them with as she looks out over the angels arrayed on both sides of the divide and searches for those beloved faces. She thinks of love so deep she drowns in it, where she knows nothing of time or duty._

_Then she thinks of her charge; Humanity. She thinks of the time spent watching the new creations. She thinks of Adam's cleverness and easy grace. She thinks of Eve's beauty and the gentle soul that shines in her eyes. She thinks of Cain and how it felt to take that soul by hand from the halls of heaven and lay it within the womb. She thinks of how it danced and fluttered as she told it all the wonders of Heaven before pressing her finger to his forming lips to seal the secrets within. She thinks about when she pressed her finger the second time against that mark as the baby slept and smiling over the way the cleft made his lips form a bow. She thinks on Abel and the soft clinging quiet he was made of as she laid him in the womb. She thought of his bond with the creatures that shared the Earth with him. She thinks of the painfully short days she listened to him play his pipes for his flocks and whispered his dreams of the world beyond the horizon to the open air._

_It is almost reluctantly that she finally thinks on the day most recent when Azrael brought Abel back to the Great Hall and walked him past the door she guarded to the one beyond; farther than she could go. The strange new things, tears, sting hot in her eyes as she thinks of Cain; walking alone on a road never traveled before. Casting her eyes upward she listened. In the stillness she heard their Father's answer even as she felt Him acknowledge her pain. Her anguish would not sway Him ._

_She chooses then to follow what her heart knows is right rather than what she wishes were true and delivers her Father's message. Her brother was cast down for his defiance and now he willfully turns their Father's children against Him. There can be no other judgment. "Your name is now Lucifer so that you will remember what you once were, but from this moment on Heaven will not know you. If you do not relent and return to your place of punishment you, and all who follow your cause, will suffer as those who make enemy of The Lord."_

_"Not know me? You will never forget me." A wave of his hand and his army surged forth._

_Jibrael can feel how deeply Michael is stunned by the answer and the momentary slip in command is quickly covered. Raguel's voice does not shake as her's did when he calls out the rallying cry. "His will be done!"_

_The clash is terrible and nothing can remove the knowledge that the faces before her blade are her family._

_Brothers._

_Sisters._

_Fledglings._

_Raphael guards her side in Michael's absence and they both struggle to keep watch on the conflict at the heart of the field as they defend themselves and the younger garrisons that fight near to them. They do not need to see when the final blow is struck; they feel its work. White hot the pain comes and the flock screams as the bond is fractured. Jibrael cannot stop herself from collapsing where she stands. Raphael is stronger. He understands pain and suffering better than she and only falls to his knee. Then it is the garrisons that defend them from the rage of the Fallen in their last attempts to strike in the wake of their leader's defeat......_

Gabriel stops reading and tosses the book into the wastebasket. A particularly vicious snap and the flames leap to life and start to consume Milton's poetry. "Samuel is going to be.....annoyed that you destroyed his book."　 

"There are better ones." 

"I believe he would say it was the principle of the thing." 

"One would think that weighed compared to the value of a good night's sleep he'd forgive me the loss of a $7.99 Amazon.com special. " 

Gabriel can't help but flinch when Castiel lays a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't noticed the other angel move and it was disconcerting to say the least. "How much is it taxing you to keep him hidden from Lucifer?" 

He shrugged at the question and risked a glance over his shoulder at his brother and the two hunters sleeping in the beds beyond."About as much as it takes to make Dean dream of Baywatch and not the Pit or any of a million other horrible things." Castiel walks around him to pour a cup of half drunk coffee into the flaming wastebasket to douse his handiwork. Gabriel flashes his brother a put out expression before trading it in for one of mild curiosity. "What's got your boxers in a bunch?"

"How long are you going to keep pretending that this situation is going to sort itself out?" 

"Que?"　 

Castiel drops the cup into the basket as the smoke fades before moving back to stand in front of him. Gabriel feels the urge to move his legs as the younger angel draws near but he stubbornly manages to keep them propped up where they were on the table. "You continue to give them half answers." 

"As opposed to no answers at all? You are lucky I like you Cas or I might have told Dean that his being snippy over my claim was just silly after being bound to you for over a year now." The blank look that follows is a bit of a shock. Gabriel keeps a careful eye on his brother as he waits for the admission, the embarrassment, the denial, or _something._ Castiel just tilts his head in that pretty bird way of his and stares back." Oh sweet mother of pearl.....you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?" 

"I do not."　 

Gabriel knew his mouth was hanging open in his shock. He snapped it shut and gave a small laugh of disbelief. "You three deserve each other. I have never met anyone who can get things so ass hat backwards and still have them work out in the end. The big red hand-print wasn't a clue?" Castiel's gaze drops to the floor and Gabriel rolls his eyes. There are none so blind as those who do not wish to see. Reaching out he hooks a finger in the fabric of that ever present coat and uses it to pull his brother closer. "Kneel, Castiel." 

He manages not to feel guilty about how quickly and easily the Seraph obeys. Dropping his feet to the floor, Gabriel leans forward and starts to tug the haphazard knot of Castiel's tie loose with quick efficient movements. He leaves it hanging loose from the collar as he works to the buttons open next. He stops six in; just enough to fit his hand in easily under the fabric to rest his palm against the small raised line of flesh that fluttered with every beat of his brother's heart. "Never wondered why this out of all your injuries left a scar? Or why you still have it even after being made anew?" Castiel's jaw tightens but no answer is forth coming. With a sigh Gabriel shifts his hand to brush his thumb lightly over the mark, just the width of a particular hunting knife, and feels fine strung tension in the flesh slowly bleed out. "I can't imagine what it was like for you but in the moment you did pry him free from the Pit something in you both must have called out. Anyone with half a brain can see the good you do for each other so I can't blame you for skipping the niceties and getting right to staking your claim. Especially considering what you knew was in store for him." 

Looking at his brother's downcast eyes and remembering his talk about not being worthy, Gabriel reaches out to lift Castiel's chin with his free hand. Force the other angel to meet his eyes and staring into that steady blue he can feel a sort of madness grip his brain. "You have built a wonderful thing here. Something good and pure.....something worth saving. I envy you." Castiel's eyes have become impossibly wide and the blue is all consuming. "Your faith and devotion leaves me in awe, Castiel. " 

Gabriel can feel the shivering threads of Grace that are all that is left to his brother. He can feel the disbelief and the need. It makes him want to _be_ again. It makes him want to live up to his name. "I don't have any good, pure, or tender thing to give you, Castiel. All I have left is what I promised you already...." Pulling free of the shirt he moves to cup the Seraph's face between his hands. "Put me as a sign on your heart, as a sign on your arm; love is strong as death, and wrath bitter as the underworld: its coals are coals of fire; violent are its flames. " Gabriel can already feel his little brother shake but he presses on. The words are heavy and it has been eons since he spoke anything like them, but if there was anyone he was going to whisper such promises to it would be someone like Castiel. Some one who might actually need him and not the ideal he represented. "If you find my courtship worthy, any who question your value will forevermore do so at their peril." 

He's almost afraid the younger angel is going to shake himself apart as Castiel sucks in deep noisy gasps of air. It takes longer than he would have thought but his brother finally collects himself enough to ask, "Why?" It was like he still didn't believe that this was happening. 

Gabriel is tempted to tease or flirt, to make it a light and silly thing, but the truth falls from his lips instead of a jest. "I need you. I need your courage to do what's right. I lost my own a long time ago." The admission leaves him breathless and he pulls away from Castiel quickly only to have his wrist caught in the younger angel's grip. Gone is the fear and the hesitance, Castiel's face is still and his eyes are hard. It is a look Gabriel is familiar with; the look of those who are warriors born and bred. The hand tightened enough that Gabriel felt the bones in his wrist creak in protest and he had to wonder just how much Grace his brother still had left. 

"No more running." The words are a low rasp. 

The air crackles with power and Gabriel knows it comes from neither of them.　 

It is old. 

Old as the Silver City.　 

Old as the star stuff Father made them from. Gabriel can taste the echos of the other bonds inside it, both his freshly made ones and those long gone. It is a heady thing, he feels the bloodlust that coursed through his veins as he whispered his last vow against heated flesh. 

"You will face what comes here, with your flock, and you will not run from the past or the future anymore. You wish my courage? I need your strength. I need to know that the Winchester will be protected even after my Grace leaves me."　 The thought of Castiel Graceless - defenseless- and the Winchester prey to the malice of both sides robbed Gabriel of words and left only fury formed into a single thought. 

**Never.**

Not while he lives.　 

His answer isn't what it should have been given the thought that this was Castiel's first proper bonding but the very nature of the flock defied conventions. He hauled Castiel up toward him with a hand behind his neck. The grip on his wrist was actually burning now as he slanted his mouth against the younger angel's in a surprisingly soft kiss. They hovered like that long enough for their breath to mingle; gloss slick mouth ghosting over chapped lips. A flutter of wings and Gabriel was left alone with the sleeping hunters, tilted in his chair and still poised for the kiss. A soft snort of laughter and he's threading shaking fingers through his hair. "Well...call me."　 

He let his hands drop and winced as his wrist hit the arm of the chair. Lifting it he turned it in the faint light from the lamp to study the Enochian script branded on his skin. It is not Castiel's name or even a translation of their words as he assumed it would be. Its a verse of scripture. 

_Love always protects, always trusts,  
always hopes, always perseveres._　 

Gabriel thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might have gotten in over his head with this one. Casting a glance at the clock he decides its time for a Dunkin Donuts run for breakfast. He's gone for only a moment and he doesn't go far. 

There is no where else he cares to be.　 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

The next day he's fielding questions about Castiel's disappearance with off hand comments about the search for Dad when he can feel his brother lingering outside just beyond sight. From the rippling sensations along the script he's fairly certain Cas is having the deep line of troubling thoughts that have plagued every teenager everywhere: I like them but I kissed the other person and it was nice, do I like them too? What about my best friend who I sometimes want to touch? And repeat. 

Well, maybe not exactly like that but really, really close.　 

.........actually, fuck it. It was probably exactly like that. 

" Do you think it might be worth looking into?" 

Gabriel blinked and looked up from the Cosmo magazine spread open on the table to look at Sam. "I'm sorry, didn't catch that." 

Dean snorts and goes back to downing a basket of chili fries. Sam is looking just a hint ruffled over being ignored but he shrugs it off as common place and starts his statement over. "I was talking to Castiel about holy relics and anything else that might be useful. One of the things that came up was...well...your trumpet. He said it went missing some time after you did." 

"Did he?" They had lost his trumpet? Well no wonder their apocalypse was so jacked up. On the plus side it meant there wasn't going to be any giant locusts anytime soon. 

"You didn't know? " 

"Nope. Silly thing probably tried to follow me." 

A round of coughs interrupted them and Sam smacked his hand against Dean's back to dislodge the fries he'd been trying to breathe. The hunter shoved the 'help' away and wiped his eyes with a napkin before wheezing out a question." Silly? Follow you? Its like a dog?" 

"No. Its like a trumpet."　 

"You just said -" 

"I know what I said. I meant it too. It must have tried to follow me, but it wouldn't have had any better luck than my family. If it ended up on earth then it could be anywhere." 

"Can't you, you know." Dean mimics the snap of fingers, " And find it?" 

"Sure. If you want everyone to know exactly where I am for the next week. I'd have to reach out beyond my fleshy bits to have the juice to search an entire planet at once. And that's even if it made it to earth. It could be hanging around Shamayin waiting for me." 

"Shamayin?" 

Gabriel flipped to the next article, the shoes for the new season looked like real killers. He debated if he could handle the heels. "Yes. Shamayin, the first Heaven. Pretty trees, silver earth, and a sky like crystal. " He quoted the words just as he would the description of a BLT and with about as much disinterest. 

"Why would it be there?" 

"Because that was my home. I ruled there. Now that I think of it, it would have figured out I wasn't coming back so it must have come to earth by now." 

Gabriel looked up to find Dean just staring at him and Sam nodding mostly to himself as he focused on his laptop. He met Dean's shocked look and arched a brow. "What is it this time?"　 

"Nothing. Just trying to wrap my head around you being in charge of something important...like a chunk of heaven."　 

"Oh yes, because compared to announcing the coming of Christ, dictating the Koran, and shuffling every infant soul to a womb that is the most important job I have." 

"Okay, break it up." 

If Gabriel was honest he'd admit that the look they both shot Sam was identical, but he isn't so it wasn't. He flips a few more pages before settling on an article on how to be sexy in all situations. "Why the interest, kiddo?" 

"Would it be helpful? I mean, if we could find it that is." 

"If you're asking if you could stop Lucifer with it then no. He's not a fan of Jazz but somehow I don't see that making him cry uncle. If we had Dean sing too maybe." 

"Very funny"　 

"Now, it might make the Zack pack and Michael take a step back and no demon is going to want to touch the thing. Your call." 

"Do you want to find it?" 

Leave it to Sam to ask the pointed questions. Gabriel looked up from the magazine and looked at both of them. "I could not put into words what that relic means to me. Having it would be.....it would be like coming home again, but I don't know what sort of trouble it will bring with it." The mention of more trouble is going to be the end of the conversation and he knows it. He shrugs it off and the waitress comes over to set down a chocolate milkshake the diner doesn't serve and no one ordered on the table. 

"Well, you heard her. Get to searching for self aware instruments, Sammy." 

Gabriel chokes on a mouthful of milkshake and Dean helpfully hands him a wad of napkins.


	4. Chapter 4

"This one?" 

"Nope." 

"This?" 

"No." 

"Now?" 

"Not even close; that's a French horn." 

Sam groans from where he has his face buried in the crook of his arm and mumbles against the surface of the desk. "Wouldn't know. I haven't been looking." 

"You could just let me look for myself." 

"Last time I did that I went out for coffee and by the time I got back you were Googling movie trivia. You think Cas is having any luck?" 

Gabriel shrugs and nudges Sam with his elbow to get him to click the next page to bring up more pictures of more horns. "Searching for my trumpet will inherently be more satisfying than searching for God." 

"Why do you do that?" 

"Do what?" 

"Just mock it. He's looking for God, shouldn't you be more supportive?" 

"Why? Its his test of faith not mine." 

"So he'll find Him?" 

Gabriel rolls his eyes toward the ceiling and pushes his chair back from the table with a sigh. "Kiddo....not much of a test if we're certain of the outcome is it? He may find Him and he might not, the point of it all is the search itself." 

Sam lifts his head and Gabriel can see the red lines marking his face from being pressed against his sleeve for so long. The hunter looks exhausted and it takes a few moments before those brown eyes focus. "It might be the nine hours of staring at the computer screen talking, but I'm not really following that logic." 

"Don't worry about it, Sam. Go lie down. I promise to not download porn laced viruses on your laptop while you're not looking." 

"I wasn't worried until you mentioned it...." 

A soft snap of fingers and the hunter was tucked into bed before he could finish his sentence. That fact didn't stop another round of half-hearted protests. "Okay, one: stop changing my clothes without permission and two: it makes me kinda nauseous when you teleport me like that." 

"Go to sleep, Kiddo. I've got more powers and no qualms about using them." 

Something suspiciously close to 'cheater' might have been muttered in response.   
　   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
Its another six unsuccessful days later when Gabriel finds something else to distract himself from the search for his trumpet. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. In the six days they had found two poltergeists, a vampire, two ghouls, and a chupacabra. Not that those really mattered in the scheme of things but it was beginning to seem like every time they got five minutes to sit down and actually look for some information somebody was suddenly in need of a rescue. 

It was a wonder the Winchesters ever got anything done. 

He’s almost tired himself by the time they pull into this newest nameless little town. Castiel had fluttered in not long after the hunter’s had checked into their room and Dean had declared it time to unwind at the bar. Not that Gabriel was going to complain, hence the lemon drop martini he was currently stirring with his sucker, but a little bit of discipline on the rest of their parts might have been nice. Either way, he’s only paying half hearted attention to his drink and the sweet slowly dissolving in it, the pool table has his focus. 

Not the table itself, but mostly the little scene going around it. 

“What’s so interesting?” 

Gabriel gave his martini a final swirl before tilting it up to his lips and finishing it off in one go; strangely the man standing at his elbow didn’t seem to mind being ignored in favor of the action. 

Go figure. 

Gabriel hummed to himself before setting the empty glass on the bar top. “Oh just things. Its like watching a mix of Animal Planet and National Geographic at the same time. Social habits of monkeys , etc.” He would almost swear he could hear the hamster wheel turning in the man’s head as he tried to follow the words to the reasoning behind them. Gabriel’s jaw tightens as the stranger leans into his space to follow his line of sight to the table. Castiel is standing next to the table twirling the pool cue between his fingers as Sam tries for the second time to explain the point of the game, this time without Dean’s helpful advice on gambling, in hopes that the angel will finally see the relaxation in the past time. Gabriel has to admire Sam’s tenacity but he wonders if he should tell them that Castiel is just humoring them. 

They seem to get the younger angel’s lack of pop culture references confused with general naiveté. 

They’ve moved onto breaking. Dean’s leaning over Castiel’s shoulder to adjust his handholds and Gabriel allows himself a smirk over the too cuteness of it all. The bartender serves up an unordered martini and Gabriel is dimly aware that he should, for politeness’ sake, thank the mouth breather that is still standing too close. 

Castiel has finally managed to assuage the Winchester’s fears enough to let him take his first shot. The crack the cue ball makes as it hit’s the point of the pyramid is almost too loud in the little dive. Although, it is the successive thumps of all the other balls sinking into the pockets that makes Gabriel’s smirk into a full blown smile. Dean’s face as he looks from the little white ball to the shiny black eight spinning harmlessly in the middle of the table is picture worthy. The whole thing was a source of shock and awe. 

At least, to the smart people. 

The not so bright watch and snort something that rhymes with ‘bags’ under their breath. 

Its not the word that offends him, he’s heard and said worse, it’s the tone. 

It’s the tone that makes his hand clench tight around the martini glass’ stem until it shatters. Castiel’s head whips around at the tiny action as if the loud music, drunken conversations, and the roar of the highway didn’t cover the sound. Gabriel can see his lips moving and knows the younger angel is probably tattling on him. Dean most likely doesn’t need a verbal warning that Gabriel’s a bit miffed, not if the sudden unease and concern that flood in through the bond is any indication. 

He cuts his gaze over to the mouth breather. “I’m sorry, I missed that. What did you say?” There must have been something in his forced smile that screamed ‘Danger! Will Robinson!’ because the man looked hesitant to answer. He was almost ready to get his smite going when he heard it. 

The distant echoing trill of fan fare. 

Someone was playing his trumpet. 

He was gone before the Winchesters thought to come over and save the mouth breather from his own stupidity. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Its not hard to figure out who has his baby. The list of angel who could even touch it is short and those inclined to play it is even shorter. He really should have seen it sooner, the facts were staring him right in the face most of the time, there was only one other angel that sported an iconic trumpet. 

He was going to pluck Moroni bald when he caught him. 

If he caught him……the little bastard was fast. Gabriel was still trying to adjust to the lopsided feeling he got during flight thanks to Raphael’s spear. He was on his thirteenth circuit of the Earth in history’s worst game of keep away when his purse lost its mind.

It took a whole minute of staring at the possessed thing vibrating across a sand dune before he remembered that Sam had handed him a cell phone. 

Like it was okay to keep an archangel on speed dial. 

Picking up his now ruined Gucci he fished the offending technology out and dumped the sand from the interior for good measure. Flipping it open one handed he knelt down to pluck his lip-gloss from the pile of sand and shake it off. “I was busy…” 

“I’m sorry but we have a problem here.” Sam sounded so flustered he almost felt guilty about snapping when he’d answered the phone. 

“You three always have problems, kiddo.” 

“Funny. This problem is bizarre even for us.” 

“Well some details would be nice.” 

A frustrated sound came from the other end of the line. “I don’t know how to explain it, but you know that play the roles crap you pulled on us in TV Land?” 

Like he was going to forget that. “Yes.” 

“Its like that only it makes even less sense. We’re near Lake Tahoe. Stateline, Nevada.” 

Its nothing to reach halfway around the world and search for them, not them in specifics but that silly car and then his brother. He’s there in a snap and its not hard to figure out what’s got Sam so flustered; there is a five alarm five eating up a Casino across the street, a song and dance routine going on of to the left, and it looks like the rose parade exploded overhead because a flurry of petals is wafting down from the heavens. 

What really gives him pause is the rest of merry band. 

“Is that a box of kittens?” Its so very hard to keep his voice from cracking as he chokes back a laugh. 

Castiel regards him for a moment before looking down at the box in his hands. “Yes. They seem benign.” The tiny little faces poke up from the edge to mew sweetly and Gabriel bites his knuckle. 

“And why do you have a box of kittens?” 

Seeming actually puzzled by the question, Castiel tilted his head as he thought which sent the fireman’s helmet that, for some reason, he was wearing sliding forward over one eye. 

Reflecting back the box of kittens was probably not the -most- important thing to question. 

Gabriel could have asked why Castiel looked decidedly more rumpled than normal. Or why he was wearing fireman’s hat and coat over his regular shirt and trousers. Then there was Dean who was glaring daggers at him. It might be nice to know why his clothes were ripped to an almost indecent level and it looked like he took a roll in Willy Wonka’s garden. 

Gabriel chuckled and turned to look at poor flustered Sam who was still clutching his phone and wearing a towel. 

_Only_ a towel. 

Gabriel took a moment to admire the…er… _thread count_ , before following the line of muscle up to meet the younger Winchester’s gaze. “You want some pants there, Sam?” 

He got an eye roll in response. “I would love some pants, but I can’t keep them on!” Dean choked on a laugh of his own and Gabriel arched a brow in response. Sam flushed but it spoke volumes about his self control that he didn’t look away. “Not like that.” He hissed out. “Every time I put clothing on something happens, explodes, or I get mauled by a …a…tornado of moths.” 

Gabriel opens his mouth but shuts it quickly; he’s at a loss as to what exactly to say to that aside from he wished he’d thought of it. Though he doubts that sentiment would go over well right now. “I’ll try to help but I don’t sense a Trickster within a hundred miles. I need to see the weirdness in action to get an idea of what’s going on.” Sam gestured at the surrounding area with his phone in response. “No can do, kiddo. This is all after affects, there’s no substance here.” 

Sam made that frustrated noise again and stalked off toward the Impala, clutching tightly to the knot of his towel. Glancing over to the other two Gabriel found them both huddled together looking into the box. They were on the edge of being too cute to be real and Gabriel was certain there was some office worker’s calendar missing her Hunks of the Month. 

Personally, he preferred a more rough and tumble image but, being an Archangel, he was predisposition to like heroes and knights in shining armor. 

He’d barely had the thought before reality rippled, he couldn’t see the source but the effect was pretty obvious. 

Castiel held the box away from his chest and looked down at himself before shrugging off the wardrobe change and returning to his observation of the kittens. Gabriel had to admit that the armor for the Garrison had gotten more impressive since he’d left. Not to mention, from the markings, Castiel had gotten a lot of military recognition over the centuries. 

“Dude….did you get Jimmy tattooed while we weren’t looking?” 

“No. It appears I am simply manifesting my natural state to a higher degree.” 

“Oh…… You do realize your wearing a skirt right?” 

“It is a kilt and a man wearing chaps should not judge another’s appearance.” 

Dean looked down at himself and swore softly under his breath. “Well? Was that enough weirdness for you, Princess?” 

Gabriel looked up from his study of the surprisingly historically accurate cowboy costume the older Winchester was now sporting. “Not really. Let’s get your little floor show out of the street and maybe I can figure this out.” 

“Fine. I still haven’t had breakfast today and its almost sunset. I’d like to catch up.” 

“Let’s go rustle you up some vittles then.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Aww…that‘s just a hard day on the range talking.”   
　 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once they got the humans food and got back to the hotel Gabriel had assumed it would be easier to sort out. Unfortunately all it did was confine the oddities to a smaller space. He really got concerned when his clothing started to change on its own, although the first shift into his battle armor hadn’t been all that disconcerting. 

The Catwoman costume that followed had been a bit surprising. 

Then the naughty nurse outfit….. 

The ball gown…. 

The flesh tone Bond girl bikini….. 

Some sort of cheap Hollywood “tribal outfit”… 

Now he was wearing a heavy collar of gems that did nothing to cover anything else on his torso and a long split silk skirt that hung low on ample hips. The whole outfit showcased the inked in markings that decorated his flesh. Looking in the mirror he had to admit he made a pretty smoking hot Goddess, which was what he figured this outfit was suppose to be. He was tempted to ask for a second opinion but Castiel kept making soft distressed noises every time the Archangel got close and Sam wasn’t looking at anything lower than his shoulders. That left Dean and with the way he was focusing most of his attention on Sam’s boots, Gabriel didn’t think he was going to get a good answer there either. 

Pity. 

“I got to say, Sammy, I’m jealous of the boots.” At the words Gabriel stopped his personal assessment and turned to look at Dean. There was something about his tone that niggled at the back of his mind. Sam snorted in response to the statement and continued his search for answers on the internet. Gabriel would have thought that the younger Winchester would have been in a better mood now that the powers that were tormenting them had decreed he could have pants again. Maybe spending the past three hours dressed as Dr. Sexy was beginning to grate. 

Looking between the two hunters Gabriel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring the key to the mystery right in the face. 

And it was laughing at him. 

He was so busy trying to trace back the pattern of weirdness he almost missed it when Sam finally looked up from his laptop and snapped at his brother, “If you love them so damn much just take them!” and that would have been a pity. If he’d missed that then he would have missed the telltale ripple of reality as Dean suddenly received the shoes he’d been so enamored with. 

It came crashing into place after that. All the stupid costumes, all the background weirdness, and the strange props. It was all intended to invoke lust, longing, or affection in some form. He’d been hard pressed to figure out who would have the power to haul him around like an extra in a photo shoot simply because he hadn’t thought about looking in the upward direction. 

“Well boys, I’ve got good news and bad news.” That got the attention of the others and they all turned to look at him expectantly. “Good news is that I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here.” 

Dean looked practically resigned when he asked, “So what’s the bad news?” 

“If I’m right it means the Cupids are out to get us and they got their big brothers in on it.” 

Castiel was the only one that looked suitably disturbed by the situation, but then again the Winchesters still didn’t have a good grasp of the Hierarchy or the general flora and fauna of Heaven. “Why would the Cherubim be after you, Gabriel?” 

“Good question, bro, and I’m going to have to ask them.” 

“Just like that?” 

“Yes, kiddo, just like that.” 

“Why do I get the feeling this is more complicated than you’re making it sound?” 

“Because you, Samuel Winchester, are a unique and insightful human being. Now if you will excuse me I need to find some virgin ewes and a sickle.” With that he left quickly before they could think up anymore awkward questions. 

He was really beginning to run short on answers.


	5. Chapter 5

The symbol is more complicated than Gabriel remembers it but he chalks that up to the fact that he is so much smaller in flesh than he was last time he bothered doing this. He has to take a few steps back from his work just to get the proper perspective to make sure he didn’t misspell anything. 

Didn’t want to try for a Cherub and end up with a Throne.

Or worse yet a Principality. 

Satisfied he tossed his paint covered mop to the side and looked over at the pen of sheep nearby. The things were obviously hungry and kept issuing forth very annoyed bleating. On his way over Gabriel picked up the sickle from the park bench he’d left it on. He was twirling the handle in between his fingers as he studied the animals, looking for the most suitable. 

He’s selected a fluffy one with black ears when the tell-tale rustling of wings disturbs his peace. It’s not Castiel, he would know the younger angel by sound even without the flair of grace to give the trespasser away, so he doesn’t bother to turn. 

“Trespasser? Have you claimed the entire Earth as yours? Someone should inform Michael and Lucifer they need to move their reunion elsewhere then.” 

Raguel’s dry, bored tone was enough pull a tiny grin from Gabriel; not that he was going to congratulate his brother on his developing grasp of humor, he got insufferable with praise. “If you think it would dissuade them be my guest.” 

Raguel just made a soft noncommittal noise. “Summoning the Cherubim?” 

Gabriel paused as he reached for the fleecy ball of cuteness and threw a pointed glare over his shoulder at his fellow Archangel. “No, I’m just traumatizing the barnyard life for kicks.” 

Raguel furrowed his brow in confusion for a moment, as if he actually thought that might be what Gabriel was doing, before the expression smoothed away and the damn knowing gleam was back in his eyes. “You never were one for taking a dose of your own medicine with any grace or style.” 

Oh. That was nasty. Gabriel buried the sickle into a post and turned to face his brother. “What do you mean by that? I didn’t do anything to the Cupids.” 

“Aside from abandon them?” 

Gabriel told himself that accusation didn’t sting. “I left the fluffy one in charge. They’re taken care of.” 

“They would be, if Hasiel, which is the ’fluffy one’s’ name, hadn’t been consigned to Raquia for disagreeing with the ‘breeding program’ that was being used on the potential vessels.” 

The temperature of the air around them dropped when Raguel mentioned Raquia. It wasn’t just an expression for the fear and loathing the place invoked: it was as if whispering a word made that place just that much closer to the speaker. Gabriel shook his head against the vision of Hasiel languishing in that prison over disagreeing with a plan that violated the sanctity of the Cupid’s position; love wasn’t meant to be a tool, it was a gift. “No. They couldn’t do that. If they opened the gates then..” He cut himself off as he realized how blind he’d been over recent events. 

Raguel wasn’t so kind. 

“If they opened the gates then the Grigori would have gotten free. Which, I’m sure you noticed, they had. Shall we add that to the growing list of occurrences that just don‘t involve you anymore?” 

“If I had known….I would have done something…..” The words came out slowly and it felt like they pulled the warmth and life out of his body as they did. Raguel started to walk closer at a slow measured pace. 

“I was originally going to come and help you sort the Cherubim out. They left a report out on my desk about their recent activities here, the only ones of the Host who even bother with that anymore, and after looking at it I thought you might need some help. Now that I’m here……” Raguel trailed off, forcing Gabriel to look up to see the cause. He hated looking up. He almost hated it more than he hated the look on his brother’s face; all disappointment and pity. “I gave you one direction when I rendered my judgment on you. One thing and you still haven’t managed to do it.” 

It’s the condescending tone that sets Gabriel off. He bristles and the rustling of feathers cuts into his hissed response. “I have been listening. No one has said a single thing that they haven’t before. I-” 

Anything else he was going to say is cut off as Raguel lifts a hand and the words are stolen from his lips. “Perhaps if you stopped speaking, stopped wallowing in your own pain and guilt for a moment, you might hear what our Father wants you to.” Raguel kept his hand raised as he tilted his head back and stared down his nose at Gabriel. There was nothing but cold distain in the other angel’s eyes and it made Gabriel uncomfortable to meet them. “Or, at the very least, you might have heard what our brothers have been saying about this flock of yours.” He let his hand drop and just like that Gabriel could feel the ability to speak return to him. 

Either the Cupids were backing up his bro or Raguel was really doing Dad’s work. 

That would make him unique out of the lot of them to say the least. 

“So what are they saying?” 

Raguel just stands there for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “What does it matter to you?” 

“I need to know if they’re plotting something.” 

Raguel looks like he’s mulling that over, far more expressive with his features and seemingly at ease in his vessel than any of Gabriel’s other brothers or sisters, as he leans against the pen holding the sheep. He’s closer now than Gabriel can remember him moving. “Plotting something? A way to get you distracted and away from them perhaps?” The casual statement is like a glass of ice water thrown in his face, Gabriel tenses and reaches back through his haphazard bond looking for trouble. 

Raguel watches him with a mildly curious expression. ”Such concern. Does it extend to all three of them?” 

He couldn’t feel any distress, from what he gathered they were still hiding in the hotel room eating take-out. “Of course it does.” He knew it came out snippy, but Raguel was purposefully needling him. 

“Really? Then I suppose Michael doesn’t know you as well as he believes he does.” 

Gabriel takes in several deep, calming breaths and works his way through a visual of dismembering Raguel, which earn him a snort and a muttered ‘You think that as if you could’. Another round of colorful visuals later he manages to grit out a request between clenched teeth. “If you would be so kind as to elaborate.” 

Simple as that Raguel flashes him a pleased grin. “I‘m afraid not. You see, I have duties to attend to.” The dust and grit Raguel’s wings kick up is enough to leave Gabriel squinting and cussing in the field. 

Alone. 

The bastard had stolen his ewes. 

Gabriel tilted his face up to the heavens. “Aw come on! What are you five?” 

The rumble of thunder and a sprinkle of a starting storm was his only answer. Gabriel glared at the otherwise clear blue sky until he got water in his eyes and the rain started to make his eyeliner run. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sam is the only one in the room when he returns to the hotel. Gabriel stalks past the hunter on his way to the bathroom leaving a sopping trail in his wake. He takes a moment to lean over the tub and wring the water out of his shirt before flipping the lid of the toilet shut so he can sit down and pry his shoes off. 

“I’m going to say the whole talking to the Cherubs didn’t go well.” 

Gabriel tossed his heels into the tub and reached up to snag the hand towel off the sink and dab his running mascara away. “It would have gone better if there wasn’t a sudden Tri-state shortage of livestock. Or, you know, the hurricane in the middle of Nevada.” Once he was satisfied that the majority of the raccoon effect was removed he tossed the towel into the tub as well. 

“So we’re stuck?” 

“Until they get something better in their heads or I find a suitable alternative to sheep’s blood. Cas still got that box of furballs?” Gabriel didn’t have to look to know Sam was making a face at him. 

“Please tell me you are not considering sacrificing a box a kittens just to make a celestial phone call.” 

“And why not? They have anymore rights than the pen of fuzzy little lambs I was going to use?” 

“Yes. No..its just-” 

“Look Sam, I’m cold, wet, and very tired. At this point I’d give good consideration to offing a Girlscout if it would stop the meddling.” He’s barely done talking before the edges of a fluffy white towel block his vision as its tossed over his head. He half expects some snaky commentary or a slanted comparison to all the things he’s done to the Winchesters in the past. 

“Well, frustrated humans take a warm shower and climb into their PJs. Not to make you lower yourself to our level but you might want to give that a try before you go on a murderous rampage because you’re cranky.” 

Gabriel pulls the towel back far enough that he can look out from under it to glare at Sam where he’s leaning against the doorframe. “Cranky? Seriously, Winchester, I’m an Archangel. We don’t get cranky.” 

“I wouldn’t know, but if it looks like a duck….” 

“You wanna look like a duck?” 

“Alright. My mistake.” 

Gabriel grumbled to himself as Sam straightened up and disappeared around the corner. 

He was not cranky. 

Alright, he might have been the smallest bit cranky but it was completely justified. His brother, the one who was born to have his back, was screwing around with him out of spite. His cherubs wouldn’t answer any of his verbal summoning and without some livestock or his trumpet he couldn’t force them to appear. To add insult to injury the strange shifts in reality hadn’t stopped but while they continued to agitate Gabriel the others seemed to be adjusting fine. 

Like it wasn’t new to them. 

Ha-ha. 

Yeah, that was getting old fast. He might have been a hint unfair and overzealous with his previous meetings with the Winchesters but that’s what he did. He gave jerks their just deserts and if people were honest the hunters were jerks. 

Just ask those Ghostfacers. 

When he finally drags himself from the bathroom, sparing a half-heart snap to situate his clothing into something a bit less soggy, Sam is sprawled across on of the beds scrolling down the page on his laptop. Gabriel pauses in the doorway to watch the hunter read. It was easy, watching the steady rise and fall of Sam’s chest to forget the chaos outside. 

“I wish you’d stop that.” 

The hunter hadn’t even glanced away from the screen, but from the set of his jaw Gabriel guessed it to be a purposeful choice. “Stop what, kiddo?” 

The silence drags out for a moment before the hunter finally answers, tilting his face away as he does. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

Gabriel cocked his head to the side and arched a brow. “Like how?” 

“Like you look at Castiel. Or even Dean.” 

“Alright, firstly despite comments on my ego I don’t carry a mirror around so I have no idea what the look is. Secondly, if there is a so called look why shouldn’t it be the same for all of you? The level of idiocy is about equal. ” 

Finally Sam turns to met his gaze. The bitterness and longing that lurks behind his eyes stings Gabriel just as deeply as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on the younger Winchester. 

Familiar concepts. 

Familiar causes. 

“I’m not part of this thing you all have, which is fine, but this…” The hunter gestures vaguely between them. “I’m not… I don’t need you to fake something that’s not there just to keep me in the loop.” 

If Gabriel was a sensitive soul, he’d try to put himself in Sam’s shoes and try to reason through the twist, self loathing human logic. 

He’s not, so he doesn’t bother. “Let me see if I have this right; you just accused me of faking enjoying your company to avoid hurting your delicate feelings. Did you take a minute to run that thought out loud to see if it sounded anything like me? Or did you just run straight for the ‘I‘m an abomination that started the apocalypse so everybody hates me’ reflex? ” Something dark and nasty flashes in the hunter’s eyes as the muscles along his shoulders tighten. Gabriel grins and barrels on in his reckless fashion. “Feelings are the very last thing I worry about.” 

They stare at each other from across the room. There’s a dangerous air to the moment, as if the world is waiting to see which one calls the bluff first. Too many sharp words and ugly truths lay between them for it to end well. 

“What do want from me, Sam?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Liar.” There’s teasing in his tone but they’re still treading on dangerous ground and Gabriel has no idea how to get them through it without someone getting cut to the bone. Sam shakes his head and pulls himself up to actually sit on the bed. It has to be the first time they’ve ever talked that the hunter has needed to crane his neck to look up at Gabriel. It’s the tiniest tug of grace and Gabriel is across the room with just a step. He stares down at the hunter and the violence lurking in his dark eyes. “What do you want from me, Sam?” He drags a gentle finger down the side of the hunter’s face as he asks. 

Sam leans instinctively away from the touch. “Nothing.” 

Anything. 

Everything. 

“Careful, Sam. Remember what I am when you ask. I know Lucifer has promised you the world on a silver platter for what he wants from you. I want something deeper and more sacred than your skin and I am willing to pay for it in kind.” 

“Are you saying you can beat the offer?” The hunter is all bitterness and cynicism. He’s figured out the game they’re playing at and he‘s pushing. “What if I wanted the devil’s head on that silver platter instead?” The words are so soft and deadly. Gabriel drags his finger back up the hunter’s cheek leaving a long red welt from his nail before snaking his hand around to fist in the shaggy mop of dark brown hair. 

He twists the locks tight until the dark eyes water and leans in to whisper his answer against the hunter‘s cheek from behind clenched teeth. 

“You wouldn’t be the first human I’ve killed for. I butchered my fledglings for the sake of Cain and Abel. Its poetic that I would try to slay my brother for the sake of their distant sons.” He pulls until Sam’s forced to tilt his head back and bare his throat. The hunter clutches Gabriel’s free arm in response and digs his fingers into the soft joint of his elbow as the other hand tries to bruise the angelic skin at the curved hip. 

A parody of a romantic pose. 

There is a terrible rage in them both and Gabriel can feel it straining to burn everything away for the sake of spite. 

“ Ask me if that’s what you want. The attempt may be my ending but I would rather suffer oblivion than fail my flock. Could you say the same? If I asked that you never consent to my brothers would you bear anything to keep your word? Torture? Death? Dean’s ruin? Castiel’s? Bobby’s? Because that’s what this takes.” Gabriel loosens his hold on the hunter’s hair and slowly slides his hand free ignoring the way his fingers tremble as he does. Ignoring the tears that run down the human’s face having nothing to do with physical pain. “ You’d die for a cause in a heartbeat, Sam. The bonds of the flock demand you live; to do what must be done and bear burden after. Day after day looking at yourself in the mirror knowing the blood that’s spilled that day is your responsibility and still pressing on. Doing this because you know in your heart of hearts that the flock is worth it, that what you have with us is worth it, and that what we stand for is worth it.” 

“How can you stand it?” If Gabriel hadn’t been what he was he might not have even heard the question. Sam’s still watching him like he’s worried Gabriel might just decide to end the conversation by snapping his neck. He doesn’t pull away though. 

Neither of them do. 

“You just do, because you learn to love and to forgive each other.” Gabriel stops and focuses on the human so still and warm before him. He takes the hand that so cruelly pulled and twisted to cup the marked cheek and soothe the injury with his thumb. “ It’s the forgiveness that’s hard for us, it takes an angel so much longer than it does you clever little monkeys. That’s if we even manage it. A rare flock indeed that does, but if you're one of those lucky few you might earn our Father’s greatest gift.” 

“And what’s that?” The tone is almost to the level of his normal curiosity, but Sam’s voice quavers at the end. Gabriel wonders a bit at that but flashes his patent ‘I know something you don’t’ grin instead of calling him on it. “ He might let you learn to forgive yourself.” 

In the quiet of the little hotel room Gabriel’s voice echoes oddly back at himself. The silence is oppressive, watchful, and it causes a prickling at the edges of his mind that sets him to searching the shadows for spies. “And you want that?” 

“With every fiber of my twisted being.“ His answer is a breathless whisper as he continues to reach into the edges of reality with his grace. Sam has a talent for the seemingly harmless question poised at just the right time. Its always in moments of distraction that he corners Gabriel for answers; like a predator. 

No wonder libraries are his natural habitat. 

“I want this.” 

Gabriel focuses on the hunter as soon as he speaks, but he doesn’t follow the statement. “My arm? Odd but not undoable. “

Sam snorts and gives the mentioned arm a small shake. “ No, very gross and not what I meant. I want what we’re having right now, the honesty.” 

“Barking up the wrong Archangel, kiddo. Lucy does the ‘I don’t lie’ thing.” 

“Secrets are worse than lies.” 

Ah, the bitter truth that. 

“No secrets huh? If you knew everything that I do…well there’d be Sam brain all over the drapes and I kinda enjoy them inside your thick skull.” 

“Then tell me when I ask.” 

“You’ve never liked my answers.” 

“I’ve needed to hear them.” 

Gabriel smiles then and tilts his head in a fair imitation of his little brother and bondmate. “So in order to get you to consent to be my..my..whatever, just mine; you want me to promise to keep being an annoying know-it-all asshole? Can do, Skipper.” 

Sam laughs and the brittle things that had been clinging to him shattered with the sound as the hunter falls forward to rest his forehead against Gabriel’s belly. “Close enough. What about me? “ 

“When I finish this thing it will be a line in the sand. I’ll have to pick up my blade and take my mantle up, I won’t have a choice. When that happens I won’t be Gabriel or Jibreal, I will be Judgment. I will be the Law. Love us all enough to be merciful when I can’t. When the time comes remember the pain that Lex Talionis brings; defy me and forgive.” 

“I don’t know if I can.” Its whispered into fabric and skin. 

Gabriel smirks. ”That’s alright, kiddo. I have faith in you.” 

The high pitched squeal of Cherubim joy almost deafens them both. 

On the positive side the cupids were ready to talk.


End file.
